5 Times Lance Was a God's Honest Killer and 1 Time He Held Back
by Skiewrites
Summary: Lance was a lot of things, and he knew it. However, they were things that made his mother smile and made his father proud and inspired his siblings, but there was one thing that held him back, that made him hesitate to interact with humans and go to school and move to America to learn about space. It was the teeny weeny little fact that he was a ghoul that killed to get his food.
1. I - Self-Defence

**TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF BLOOD, DEATH, GORE AND CANNIBALISM DUE TO THE NATURE OF GHOULS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

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' _If it was humans that made you so cruel… then maybe you're a victim too. But, I won't become like you. I won't take lives for pleasure.'_

 _Tokyo Ghoul, Volume 7_

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Lance was a lot of things, and he knew it.

He was the eldest child, which he thought was great because it meant that was there when Luis started walking for the first time and when Veronica was first able to eat without Mama having to blend the meat in a broken blender and making it look all yucky looking and when Marco was first born in one of the higher-level rooms of the apartment block that they were living in, though at the time, he had not been pleased with his mother's screams of pain.

He was also the fastest out of all the kids who lived with them in the run-down apartment block, able to run away from any of them when they were playing and able to catch any of them when they realised they did something wrong and decided to dash for it, even if he was only ten and the others were beginning to reach their teen years. His Mama would smile when he vividly boasted about this skill, and would always reply to his comments about how it was because of who he was, how he took after his Mama more than his Papa.

(He doesn't understand that much at the moment, but he was sure he'll get it soon enough. He always did.)

Lance was also one of the smarter ones of the kids in the apartment block. While the other his age moaned about being left along by the adults and being told to always stay indoors, or out of the main streets when they were able to leave the block, but Lance knew that there were things out there, monsters that ruled the world and forced them into a corner with a pretty smiled scarred into their faces. He didn't understand why they weren't allowed to rule, why their prey was allowed to rule instead, but he was sure he would learn soon.

So, Lance was a lot of things, things that made his mother smile and made his father proud and made his siblings look up to him and made all the other kids jealous, but at this particular moment in time, he was excited.

"Really? I'm allowed to come with you to get food?" Lance almost shouted, making his Papa smile (taunt and painful) and ruffle his hair, much to Lance's displeasure.

"Sure are kiddo, I've talked to your mother about it, and she agreed that you are old enough to learn about these things now," he said, picking up the old empty duffle bag and leaving the apartment bock with Lance trailing behind, a smile glued to his face. They walked together in relative silence for a while, content to listening the of traffic and people as they slowly but surely got closer and closer to their prey, still outside in the dead of the night, thinking that they were safe.

Before they got too close to the main road, close to the streetlamps and close to the prey, his Papa stopped him, and Lance watched in silence as the man put on a mask, one that vaguely reminded him of a sea monster, a Leviathan, with gills coming out of the side of the neck of the mask and huge beady eyes that glowed when his Papa put it on. In places, the dark blue leather had been torn off, leaving white scars and odd stiches in places.

"Okay Lance, I'm going to need you to follow every word I say," his Papa demanded, and Lance nodded quickly in reply. It was dangerous work, hunting. He had more often than not overheard the elder kids laugh when they boast about their close calls, and the mothers who have to rely on the gang nearby to get their food because they were simply not strong enough, and they hated that they had to do so.

So, Lance does as he's told. He sat at the opening of the alley, and he started to cry. It's a bit hard at first, he had never cried on demand before, but it helped that there are cuts on his face made by his Papa as he whispered apologies and he looked at the strange new world he's never been to before, and it was overwhelmingly bright on his eyes due to the artificial lighting and loud on his ears due to the prey's need to shout over one another, so much so that he wanted to cover them. So he did, he covered them and he cried louder, because that's what he was supposed to do, and once the tears started Lance found it hard to stop, not that he was supposed to stop. He's supposed to cry loudly and clearly to get their attention, and then his Papa will do the next part of the plan, not that he knew what that plan is yet, but he didn't care because it was loud and it was bright for night and it hurt his head.

"Aww, are you okay?" he opened his eyes (when did he close them?) looking up at the couple that had stopped by, the woman having gotten close to him, close enough for him to smell her disgusting breath and to smell her delicious skin and hear the _thump thump_ of her heartbeat, while the man stayed back, with a briefcase in his hands and a worried look on his face. He still felt the tears fall, it was still loud and still bright but now he had her to focus on which make it all that bit easier, he guessed.

He sniffed loudly and wetly, and he knew he must look pathetic, because the woman cooed more and came closer to him despite the man's warning, and he shuffled backwards slightly into the shadows more, hid himself more. He didn't want her to touch him, didn't want her smell to cover up his own and he didn't want her soft subtle flesh to feel his rough skin.

"C'mon out of there, we'll take you to a police station, and then we'll call your parents, how about that?" she asked, and he let out a hiccup in answer. He didn't know what a 'police station' was, but it sounded scary. He had shuffled far down the alley now, with only the woman entering it, the man getting angrier and angrier at the entrance. It was dark enough to cover the violent shaking that started to cover his entire body. It wasn't until his back hit the brick wall that he realised how the woman, who smelt so nice yet so wrong, had cornered him.

"Hey, there's nothing to worry about little gho-" her words were cut off as his Papa came out of nowhere, his eyes glowing behind his mask, as he kicked the woman hard away from him, and she let out a scream that was cut off as she quickly hit the wall with a satisfying crunch, a delicious aroma coming from her still body as her blood stained the concrete below. Lance followed his Papa to the body, and watched mesmerised as he watched his Papa started to methodically tear into the woman into pieces, careful to make sure that the body pieces fitted into the bag and the head of the woman was unaffected and instead was left on top of puddle of blood that accumulated.

Once he was done, his Papa turned to Lance, his body relaxed and his eyes no longer the glowing red but the warming brown that Lance was more used to seeing. Lance smiled at him, his nose still running but the wound on his face had stopped bleeding now and seemed to be showing signs of healing now.

"Are you okay, Lance?" his Papa asked as he helped him up, and Lance nodded in reply, even though the action made his head throb and he regretted crying so much for a moment, but only for a moment as there was a proud looking the honey brown eyes of his Papa and it only made him smile more.

His Papa goes to open his mouth, and to this day Lance wonders what he was about to say. Maybe it would have been something off handed, a random comment about the smell or the noise. While they are the most likely thing to have been said, Lance doesn't like to think like that. No, Lance likes to think that his Papa lasts words would have been words of praise, words reassuring Lance that he did everything just like he asked. Maybe it would have been advice, words to tell him how to do the job better, how to catch them up in the nest right and proper. On the bad days, the ones where his Mama refuses to leave her room in the new apartment or when the hungry stomachs of his siblings got a bit too loud for his likings, he hopes that it would have been words of love coming out of his Papa's mouth, words telling him how much he loves his Mama and his brothers and sister.

But, no, the last thing to leave his mouth is a gasp of surprise and a trail of blood as a sword suddenly appeared through his Papa's midsection, bloody and blue. It leaves him just as suddenly as it came, the sickening of slicing flesh echoing around the alley.

It was like watching a grainy video in slow motion, as Lance watched his Papa's fall and hit the ground with a sickening crunch, a repulsive aroma coming from his still body as his blood stained the concrete below. It was hard to see with the dark and the tears in his eyes, but Lance was able to vaguely make out the man that was with the woman at the opening of the alley before, but he was unable to do anything as he approached slowly but steadily, his hand gripping the bloody and blue sword.

Something inside Lance told him to run away, to go back to his Mama and cry and tell her what happened and to let her comfort her and tell him that everything was going to be okay. But instead of turning around and running away, he just stared at the approaching human with his blue and bloodied sword, and he vaguely recognised the feeling of his limbs shaking somewhat. It didn't take long at all for the man to get close enough to strike Lance, and instead of running away like he should, like his instincts were telling to (he wouldn't be able to catch him either, he was very fast for his age), his eyes merely looked down at what is now his Papa's corpse, and he felt a tear streak down his face.

"My name is Investigator Alexei Días. You killed my wife. Prepare to die," he whispered, and it was the only warning Lance got before there was a sword in his stomach, being pushed in more and becoming less blue and more bloodied. Lance glanced down at the sword, before looking up at the man in confusion, tears falling down his face more and more.

He… he didn't want to die.

He couldn't die! Not here, not when his Mama and his siblings didn't know about his Papa's death and when none of them had the food, they needed the food. That was his job, he needed to make sure that they were fed and looked after like his Papa used to. His Mama would be said to hear that her husband was dead, but she would be devastated.

He couldn't do that to her.

There was a sudden pain in shoulder, like something was coming out of his skin and ripping him apart. There was a look of fear in the dove's eyes, and Lance took a guilty pleasure in the way that the man's eyes widened and his hand on the blue and bloodied sword shook, and smiled openingly, feeling some blood from his mouth (when did that get there?) dibble out and start to fall down his chin. Something fluttered near his head, something that made dove, Investigator Alexei Días, scream, something that shot out a flurry of blue diamonds that impaled him over and over and over again. He was dead before he hit the fall, and the sudden loss of pressure on the sword made it slip out on the concrete, still blue and still bloody.

Falling himself, Lance reached a hand over his stomach, and he felt the blood and the damaged internal organs trying to come out on his hands, a strange feeling, knowing how your own intestines felt in your hands. He could feel the edges of the wound burning, as if they were healing, and his stomach rumbling, reminding him of the nice smell that laid beneath the rancid one. There were two corpses now (one less mouth to feed), no one would mind if he ate his fill this time, he'll make sure to ration his next meal, make sure the others get more on their plates next time.

How are they getting food next time? His Papa was dead _._

He was dead.

He was dead.

 _He was dead._

Lance crawled painfully to the dead dove, shoving the blue and bloodied sword away from his path as he reached the bleeding arm, and tore it off and began his meal. He had eaten a good part the torso by the time he was done, and the wound was visibly healed, though he could feel them swish around dangerously when he walked. Frowning, he fitted as much of the other body in the bag, now too heavy for him to carry properly but he could drag it home. The only full corpse left was now his Papa, and he knew if he was to come back here later the body would be gone, and he would be shot at. So, he goes over to his Papa's face and takes off the mask, eyelids heavy and puffy from all the crying and his stomach pulsing in pain, and he takes it in for the final time.

He's never going to see him again.

Picking up the handles of the bag and beginning to pull, Lance stopped thinking, he only did. He pulled the bag home, he ignored the whispers with the rising sun in the background, he struggled listing the bag up two flights of stairs, he collapsed in his Mama's arms with a background of tears and sobs and mummers from the other neighbours.

Lance was a lot of things, and he knew it.

He was capable of killing those who threatened and his family, and he knew it.

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 **A.N. Hey, so new story, and it continues off of my other Tokyo Ghoul/Voltron crossover that follows Shiro and is much more light-hearted than this one, which can be found on my profile. I hope you enjoyed and please leave a comment and tell me what you think!**


	2. II - Instruction

They move after Papa died.

Mama says its because she can't stand to be in the area with the others without Papa, can't stand to be alone but watch as everyone else can have their other with them. It makes sense, and people sympathise with that, so they let her, and her children go, and the McClain's part with the ghouls that were like a family to them.

But despite what Mama said, Lance wasn't stupid. He was there when Papa died after all. He heard what everyone muttered about in the quiet dark corners of alleys and abandoned buildings. Two doves went are dead, and only one of the bodies, half eaten as it was, have been found, as well as the corpse of an A-rated ghoul. This was serious, more doves were in the area, and Mama wasn't the first family to flee the area, just the only one that an excuse that didn't make her or her family out to be a wimp.

So, the McClain's leave, under the idea that they are in too much grief to stay where they've lived their whole lives, and they move to another abandoned building, this time, there isn't anyone to play with and there isn't anyone to talk to and there isn't anything that Lance could do about it, except make sure that everyone ate and slept.

The first time that he disappeared in the middle of the night (two days after they arrive at their new home, a week after Papa died), Mama sobbed and shouted at him for not telling her what he was doing and said how proud she was of him for doing this and how proud Papa would have been if he could see him now.

The second time he did it, she cried silently, and hugged him. By the time the third time came around, it was expected of him to do it. But it still made her cry none the less.

She spoke less now, Mama did. Now she cried and hugged them to the point of almost breaking their bones and popping their lungs. But she barely spoke a word these days.

But, Lance had more important things to think about now.

The area that Mama had led them to was more violent than the place that they were living before in terms for ghoul activity, and Lance quickly found the reason why. The gang that held control of the area ran it with a tight fist, and the CCG was not pleased with it, resulting in regular, bloody, encounters between the two groups.

The first one that happened with them in the area was one that was almost on their doorsteps, Lance could only thank his lucky stars that they were inside, that he could make sure that his siblings stayed away from the window, away from the violence and the bloodshed that was happening mere metres from their new home. He watched as Mama covered the windows with old fabrics and as she turned every light off, and he made sure to hold Veronica and cover her ears as the screaming started, the screams that were hard to tell if it was human or ghoul. He stopped his brothers from leaving the house to play the next day, and the day after that, not until the heavy stench of blood has left both Lance's nose and the concrete.

The next time that fight happened, he was looking for food.

It hard to look for a human, it was hard to kill them, to watch the fear grow on their face and watch as the life drained out of it, but he did gain some tactics to make sure that he was able to kill them. It was surprisingly easy to target people once you picked up on some of their habits. There was a popular nightclub with lots of easy alleys, though he made sure not to pick any one of the really drunk ones, as he didn't want to make his siblings drunk off fermented blood (though he was wondering if he should pick one up for Mama for her birthday, as that was coming up soon). There was a large office building with a lot of people walking and out of that was easy to pick people from on their way home after a long day of being overworked, and there was a train station not too far that made it easy to drag some foreign blood home. After finding someone, it was easy to start the tears, to pretend that he was lost, easy to pretend that he wanted to be home with his family. Overworked, stressed and drunk people tended to forget the risks, and that was their downfall.

It was nearby the train station that he saw the next fight.

He was about to step out into the public, to start the waterworks, his Papa's mask heavy in his pocket, and find their dinner for the night when a hand grabbed onto his shoulder hard, making him

"Not here, not tonight," Lance spun around fast, his eyes widening at the sight of the mask staring back at him, doll-like and almost too realistic, before his eyes narrowed. The black eyes stared into his soul as the head tilted, and Lance took in the nicely done blonde locks and the white face that clearly did not match up with the tanned hands that was still holding him back from his meal. He was just about to ask why when the screaming started.

Instantly, he was pushed backwards, land he landed on his butt as the ghoul ran forward towards the screaming, their kogune erupting from their back, and Lance felt his jaw drop as beautiful wings grew out of their back, shinnying purple and pick before they jumped high in the air, launching themselves into the fray.

Lance quickly pulled the mask out of his pocket, quickly shoving it on his face and doing it up on his face while he crowed into the dark corner and he held his breath as ghouls started to come out of every alley around the open area. Quickly, the pavement gained a river of blood as the screams turned into death, and Lance could feel his eyes turn black and his mouth water with sticky saliva when the smell of fresh flesh met his nose.

Doves quickly came onto the scene, standing out from the crowd instantly with their pure white coats and their suitcases of dead ghouls.

It was despicable, those so called 'weapons'.

Despite the fast moment of both the ghouls and the doves, it was easy to keep attack on the ghoul that had stopped Lance from stepping out into the violence, and it was clear that they were in charge of some things, as Lance noticed the way that their hand would move slightly behind their back, the way that their nodded in a direction, and others with similar masks, masks with a pale innocent face and curls that don't fit in with the area or the time era, would follow without any question or hesitation.

By the time that the gang was done with the doves, there was barely anyone standing. The area held a stench of pure death, death that had been fermented in violence and blood, and Lance couldn't help but lick his lips clean on the blood that had splattered onto them during his time of hiding, and he moaned as the delicious flavour hit his tongue.

His family never ate something like this.

"Oi, kid," Lance stood up quickly at the callout to him, his eyes going straight to the ghoul who had been able to catch his attention during the entire fight. Their kogune was gone now, no need to have it out anymore, and their pure face was contaminated by the blood of their enemies, but they only smudged it away with the back of their hand, licking it off as they walked towards him. "You're new around here, aren't you?" Lance nodded quickly at their words. They let out a large sigh at this.

"Are you by yourself," Lance thought about it for a moment, before shaking his head. They looked behind them for a second, nodding their head towards the group of ghouls with similar masks and they nodded in return, before separating and starting to collect the dead meat.

"I've noticed you around, you're not used to hunting, are you?" they asked, and Lance shook his head.

"No, I'm not, but there's no one else," Lance admitted, looking down at himself, noting that his shoes, the ones that he had dug out of the bin only last week, were soaked with blood and trash and everything else a human being had inside them. Great, now he had to get a new pair.

"That always seemed to be the case," they muttered, and before they could say anything else, there was a call from one of the other ghouls.

"Hey! This one's alive!" There was a laughter in the other's ghoul voice, before a scream echoed through the air. The ghoul that Lance had been talking to tensed up, before walking to the other ghoul who had called out, gesturing for Lance to follow them, which he did, for he didn't really want to get on their bad side, not after what he just witnessed, trying his hardest to not step on anything that vaguely resembled a human and any part of their body, including the large scattering of internal organs.

When they finally got the ghoul who called out, Lance had decided that the feeling of squelching in blood in between his toes was not nice. The one that was alive was missing a leg and had a gun by their hands, but just out of reach, so no matter how much they stretched towards it there was no way that they could get to it. The other ghoul kept poking right into the torn muscle, and Lance had to hold back stomach acid, because while he had killed people and had gotten used to killing people, he never got used to the unholy screams of pain and terror that they let out.

"Ah, I really like this one's screaming," the ghoul who was poking said, pushing their finger in deeper and deeper until the leader slapped their hand away from the leg.

"There's a kid here, tone it down a bit would you," the leader said, before leaning forward and grabbing the man's jaw, blood trailing down from his mouth over their fingers, bringing him forward despite all the pain he must have been in. Lance was glad his mask was still on, because he couldn't hold back the wince and sympathy he was feeling for him, despite the amount of people he must have killed tonight.

While Lance had never lost a leg before (and he hoped that he never will), he had been stabbed before, and by lord all mighty did that hurt.

"I don't suppose you know anything about the next raid, do you?" they asked lightly, playfully. The man shook his head with such speed that it shocked Lance that he even had the energy for it, what with all the screaming he did just mere seconds ago. The leader sighed behind their mask, dropping the man, and slowly licking their finger clean of the blood, before screwing their face in disgust and spiting it back out on the man's face.

"Disgusting," they muttered, "Just like the rest of you doves." They turned to Lance, and for some reason, Lance could imagine them having a smile on their face behind their childish mask, "I have a proposition for you kid," Lance swallowed hard.

"Join us, become one of us. If you do so, we'll train you up, get you a mask of your own, provide for you and the others you clearly care for." The words seemed like they were made in heaven, and it made him weary. It all sounded so good, too good really. People didn't do something like that for free.

"And what do you want me to do in return?" Lance asked passively, trying to get rid of any aggression or fear out of his voice. The leader nodded at his words.

"Kill the dove," they said monotonously, causing the other ghoul to start giggling manically. "But you've got to impress us, we don't just accept any random joe on the street." Lance took a deep breath at the words, before turning to the dove. He was crying now, shaking his head, wordlessly begging for his life. It was pathetic really, but Lance did really feel for him. It must be painful for him to be in so much pain here, knowing that there was no escape from what was about to happen to him.

But, at the same time, Lance really did not have any lost love for doves.

Lance took a step closer to the dove, looking deep at his eyes and the way that they wept with selfish tears, and he followed the tears along his cheeks, his chin, dropping onto his chest and it reminded him of how the dove was still reaching for the gun that was just too far out for him, only just unreachable for him. But, it did give him an idea, one that was sure to be impressive.

Reaching forward, Lance snatched the gun off of the ground, ignoring the weird but loud muttering that was coming from the crazy ghoul, and the small hum from the leader. Then, with the dove's gun in hand, he started to walk away from the dove, taking five steps, ten, twenty, thirty steps away from the small group, making them look small and a part of the bloodshed that had happened tonight.

Raising the gun, Lance took one breath, two breaths, a third, took his aim, before his finger found the trigger and he pulled it.

There was cheering from the crazy one when he dropped the weapon to the ground. He walked over the group of now two, and threw one look at the corpse that he had created, where the left eye was now replaced by scarred flesh.

Bullseye. Lucky him.

"Welcome to the club then Mr. Sharpshooter," Lance turned around to them, and smiled behind his mask, trying his best to ignore his work and the bile that was building up in his throat.

Mama was going to kill him when he told her, that's for sure.


End file.
